Protecting the Pack
by Spearmint.Toothpaste
Summary: The Starks are back in Winterfell and the North is united under a new King in the North-Jon. Littlefinger is plotting. Sansa is ready to play the game of thrones. Arya is back in Winterfell wearing a stranger's face. Someone thought dead comes back. And winter has come. I'm bad at summaries. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Sansa I

Note: The story picks up from the last episode of season 6. I'm still thinking how the story goes. I'm not into incest but the original idea came to me and there is incest. It's essential to the plot. So yeah...there's the warning. I'm gonna try to water it down though because the main point of this story and the angle I want to show is how far the Stark siblings are willing to go to protect each other.

Disclaimer: The characters and anything familiar isn't mine. I'm just playing around with the characters and world created by GRRM.

It has been a couple of months since they were able the win back Winterfell from the Boltons. They-her and Jon, just like Jon would always correct her. Just like Jon would always correct anyone who conveniently brushes aside her part on the war.

She honestly does not know how to react to that. It is true that had it not been for the knights of the Vale coming to their rescue, they might have lost the battle against Bolton's men. Still though, that battle was won by Jon. She might have been learning how to play the game to favor their family, but in that battle, it was her brother who inspired his men to fight. It was him who ran after Ramsey and led the attack to Winterfell. He deserve to be declared as the King in the North.

Sansa is fine with that. The Northmen are brave, loyal, and honest people, who value strength and conviction. They are tough and would only accept a leader who is brave, strong and knows how to fight and defend them. Jon is all that, and he has the blood of a Stark. It does not hurt them either that Jon looks so much like her father. So Jon is the figure that the Northmen and the wildlings needed to unite them. Sansa is more interested in staying in the shadows.

If there is anything that Sansa learned in King's Landing, it is that battles are won with swords, but war is won with words. Also, plotting is easier when no one's looking your way, and lying is better achieved in the shadows. So she stays in the shadows. The Northmen do not care for the game of thrones, that much is sure. But having Baelish in Winterfell, Sansa wouldn't be very sure. She means to protect her and Jon from anything and anyone at all costs, and Baelish is a disaster waiting to happen.

Sansa had been weary since Littlefinger talked to her in the Godswood trying to turn her against Jon. _He thought he could tempt me with power._ As if she wanted power. For so long, all she wanted to be is back home with her family. All the time she was in King's Landing as Joffrey's betrothed after her father was beheaded all she wished for is to turn back time where life is simplier and she was safe with her family in Winterfell. _Being the queen has lost its appeal a long time ago._ She learned that her family is the most important thing to her, and right now, Jon is the only family she got. There was no way she'll turn her back on her brother.

She knew that Littlefinger is always plotting, and at first she wanted to straight up told him that she will not be part of his plans, but the she realized that she needed to make him believe that she is interested with what he plans to do, so she would know what to do about it. He would never suspect her, he did told her that she is bad at lying. How wrong he is now to think the same. Oh yes, she's learned how to lie very well. She has to, no matter how much she loathes lying. The North may be in peace at the moment, but it would not be long if it is up to Baelish or Cersei, and so she has to be smart about everything. Every single move she and Jon will take might mean their doom.

That is another thing that gives Sansa comfort though she stays behind her brother in the eyes of their subjects. Jon demands his people, their people, to give Sansa the respect that they owe him. She is, after all, their princess. And after they agreed to tell each other everything and to trust each other, Sansa decided that it would be worth it to start sharing her political opinions to Jon, which he gladly accepted. It had been their routine now, that before Jon make his decisions, he would talk to her first and they would analyze the repercussions before making a step to go about the issue. She became Jon's most trusted adviser.

That is how she find herself sitting in the bed of what used to be Arya's room, waiting for Jon to finish talking with his bannermen regarding the Winter. The food supply will not be enough for people of the North as well as the wildlings if the maesters are to be believed that this winter looks like it would last much longer than the previous ones. It was hard to grow anything in the north during summer, much less during winter. There was no way that they could have enough food to feed all of North for the whole year.

Even when they were younger and still in Winterfell, she knows that their food supply came from the Riverlands. It would be impossible to have them deliver goods now though because the Riverlands have suffered a lot during the war of the five kings, and after that. _Not even their supply would be enough to feed all of the Riverlands this winter._ That, and the fact that the Riverlands is in chaos.

Someone murdered Walder Frey and his two sons, and no one knows who did it. All everyone knew about it was that his sons were brutally murdered, mutilated some would say, and that Walder Frey had his throat slit when they found him. What was curious is that, according to some, when Frey men came to move the body of their dead lord, his head had been taken from the body and was never found.

Sansa hated the minimal information about the murders, but she hated the non-information on the murderer more. _Is the killer a friend or a foe?_ She was informed that people had been talking, they think whoever did that to the Freys was avenging her brother, Robb, and her mother. Sansa could understand why people would think that, a slit throat and a missing head. _But what if the killer intentionally did it so Jon and I would be complacent. I will not trust the people's judgment until I know who murdered the Freys. My brother and I could be in danger for all I know._

That is another thing that worries Sansa from time to time. That killer was aware of what happened to Robb and her mother, he was aware of the existence of the Starks. _Being in a killer's radar is a dangerous place to be._ She and Jon had to be extra careful. She would not let anyone harm this family again. If she has to talk and outsmart every suspicious guest that comes to Winterfell, then she'll do it. If she has to be more practical than that, and just kill them while they sleep, then she'll do it as well. Anything for this family. _We've suffered enough because we trusted the wrong people. Because I trusted the wrong people. It will not happen again._

"I can hear you thinking from the other room, little sister," Sansa was startled by Jon's deep voice from the doorway. She whipped her head in his direction and found him telling one of his men to guard the door, and then he locked it and faced her with his lips turned up a bit.

"Well, someone has to do the thinking for both of us, dear brother," she teased back. Jon smiled fully now as he sat down at Arya's chair in the corner of the room facing the bed. "Aye, and what were you thinking?"

"Nothing. That incident at the twins with the Freys just crossed my mind again," she could see that Jon was about to say something so she rushed on continuing, "and yes, yes, Jon. I know. I should not give that much thought about it. We've talked about this already, brother. I try not to worry, it just crosses my mind from time to time and when it does, it bothers me."

Jon sighed, "I understand, I do worry as well, Sansa. I just do not want to have you worried about something which might be nothing more than a random incident. There are more pressing problems we have to deal with, little sister. We'll tackle that problem if the threat becomes real."

"When the threat does become real we might not be able to worry about it because we might be dead."

"We will know about the threat before it comes for us. We would know when he or she in the north already. I will protect you."

"I know you will protect me, brother. But how do we know when the danger is in the North already? What? Do you think he would knock on our gates? Did you think he knocked on the twins?"

"Look, Sansa, when-" Jon was cut off by one of the men guarding the door.

"Your grace, I'm sorry for interrupting your time with the princess, but it is an emergency. Someone is at the gates, and she is demanding your presence. Said she brought a gift for you and your sister."

Jon frowned, "Did she mention a name? Was she from a Northern family?"

The guard paled a bit, Sansa didn't think Jon even noticed, she might not have if she had not learn to pay close attention to people while they make conversations. He answered in a lower voice, "She did not say anything, your grace. She just told us that her gift would look good on a stake."

Jon looked stunned, but Sansa was suddenly on her feet pulling Jon out the room and into the hall as she called to the guards, "Let her in, my brother and I will see her in the courtyard."

When they arrived in the courtyard, Sansa could see that some of the northern lords, Lady Mormont, and a few wildlings were looking very intrigue at something, or someone. There, being watched closely by Stark soldiers is a figure, shorter than Sansa, probably thinner too, wearing a cloak with its hood up, holding something long wrapped in clothes with her right hand and lazily holding a bag of something on her left.

Sansa walked toward their guest in a slower pace and whispered to Jon, "Brother, let me do the talking."

"Sansa, something does not feel right. Maybe you should head back inside and let me handle this," Jon whispered back. Sansa kept walking as she answered him. "No Jon, let me. But I need you beside me." "Aye," he answered as they reached their guest.

The girl curtsied clumsily though she did not lowered her hood, "Your graces." They acknowledged her with a nod, and then Sansa spoke politely, "My lady, you look like you have travelled far, what brings you here to Winterfell?" She noticed that the girl tensed a bit when she addressed her as a lady. _I need to keep that information for later._

"I did travel far, your grace. I have come here to personally give you this." The girl held up the cloth bag she's been carrying and offered it to Sansa. Sansa hesitantly move her hands to take it but then Jon spoke up, "Tormund, take this lady's gift." Sansa knew they could not afford to affront this mysterious guest, so she immediately smiled brightly at Jon, "Dear brother, it is _fine_. I would like to see the gift now, with your leave."

Sansa then turned to the girl, "If it is alright with you of course, my lady?" The girl nodded. Sansa heard rather than saw Jon sighed, "Alright then, let us see what is inside." Before Sansa could open the bag however, the girls hand was on her wrist. "I suggest you turn the bag over and pour the content on the ground, your grace," she said in a very calm voice which does nothing to calm Sansa's nerves at all. On the contrary, her heart is beating harder, she still managed to smile though and nod her head.

The girl let go of her wrist, only to be replaced by Jon's hand. "Let me, Sansa," he said firmly, using his King tone which broach no argument. Sansa gave him the bag and Jon turned it over at once. Sansa gripped Jon's forearm harder than she ever gripped it before. Jon was clearly shocked, and Sansa is not sure if it is because of her strong grip or because of the thing that fell from the bag.

"Did you like it?" the girl suddenly asked. Jon's frown deepened and then he ordered, "Grab her! Take her to one of the prison cells." Sansa could not even make much sense of what was happening. But she noticed that the girl did not even flinched when the soldiers took her, she even heard a faint chuckle.

Sansa did not know what she expected, truthfully. She suspected that something is wrong even before they went down to the courtyards, and she might have thought a messenger from Cersei came to the North to bring bad news. But not this, at least not yet. But here it is, and here they are, looking at the severed head of Walder Frey on the snow.

"Sansa!" That's Jon, now shaking her mildly, "Are you okay, sister?" She nodded, "Yes, I'm okay. Just…shocked is all."

Jon nodded, "I reckon she does knock on castle gates, little sister." Sansa knew that Jon knows how serious this matter is, however, she could not fault him if he would find a little humor, especially after their conversation which had been interrupted.

"Of all the time you could have used your very small bout of humor, you decided now would be a good time?" she said exasperatedly, but with a small smile. Her brother chuckled a bit and then started ushering her protectively inside telling her that she should stay in her room as much as possible for now and should not be roaming around the castle without a couple of guards, before turning to his soldiers and lords giving orders to be more alert in guarding every part of the castle.

But of course Sansa would not heed his instructions. She needed to know more about this girl who managed to murder the Freys in their own castle and get away with it with no one noticing. No, she is not going to her room to be guarded, she needed to talk to their new prisoner. _No time like the present,_ she thought smiling as she made her way to the prison cells.

N/A: I've written a few chapters already. So here's a preview of Chapter 2:

"I'd like to talk to you my lady. If that is alright?" _Shit. Sansa of all people!_ Arya groaned silently, she knows she have to be careful. Her sister is not someone she should underestimate. She needed to decide on a facade she would use for Sansa.

"You call me my lady, your grace, but you put me in a prison," she answered calmly. It's not enough though, she needed to put Sansa on edge. Maybe later.

She heard Sansa sighed, "I'm so sorry, my lady. It was not my wish that you be put here. I'm sure my brother was just shocked as well. I would talk to him about this and try to reason with him, worry not."

Gods, she's good at this. She sounds really sincere and innocent, she even wants to downplay her influence on Jon. It is obvious though with the way Jon paid attention when Sansa spoke to him earlier in the courtyard while walking towards her. She was able to read her lips. _Brother, let me do the talking._ Jon has absolute trust in her judgement. Arya would bet needle that they were ruling together, but making it seem that it was only Jon who does. How clever. Definitely Sansa's idea.

"Thank you, your grace." She answered shortly. She heard her sister fidget before speaking to her again.

"My lady, are you of the North?"

"Does it matter, your grace?"

"Well…no, not really. It's just that…umm…" Sansa paused and exhaled deeply, "It's just, if you are not of the North, then you do not really needed to address me as your grace." Arya listened carefully, and she knows that Sansa wasn't exactly feeling awkward or timid at all. Her sister has become a good actress. Sansa is fishing for information, it seems.


	2. Arya

Disclaimer: Again. Not mine.

Note: Apologies in advance. I cannot format well because someone actually managed to uninstall microsoft offices in my laptop. _Gods!_ And now, I can't find my installer as well. Therefore, I'm using One Note instead. So yeah, that is why chapter one quite a mess. It's hard to edit, and keep reuploading. So very sorry guys. Hopefully, I'd be able to find the thing before 90 days so I can edit these early chapters properly.

On a chipper note, thanks for all the comments, favorites, and follows! Gives me life, you guys. On to the story!

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"Grab her. Take her to one of the prison cells!"

Jon ordered the guards a few beats after that pathetic excuse for a lord's head hit the snow. They were alert enough that they actually grabbed her as soon as her brother gave the order. _Needle!_ Arya looked up at her brother and sister as the guards grab her things and took her away.

Sansa looked sick, and it seemed that she was trying very hard not to vomit or not to faint, or maybe not to vomit and then faint. Yes, probably the second one. Arya bet Sansa would be hard pressed to live it down if that happens, seeing as she is still very much a lady as Arya remembered her. She fondly chuckled quite a bit at that. Oh, how she missed her sister and her ways! Though, with the few moments she spent in her sister's presence, Arya could tell that a lot has changed about her. _Not just her._

If she was certain about something even before she decided to went straight to Winterfell after her _visit_ to the Twins, it was that nothing will be the same as it was when she left home five years ago. _Or was that six?_ Anyhow, she was right. A lot has change. There were more guards than usual, the castle is burned in some parts, everyone looked less trusting, and though it still felt safe and felt home, there was something in the air that gives her the feeling that everyone in here was antsy about something. As if some danger was hiding in the shadows waiting to pounce. _Or maybe,_ she thought, _I was the one who changed so much?_ But Arya knew that cannot be, everything has changed, no matter how small or big.

She was nervous when she talked to guards at the gate, no matter if she was wearing a different face, she fear they might still recognize her. For no matter how many times you could change your face, there was no way to change your eyes. And she has those Stark eyes. The distinct storm gray ones, just like her father's and Jon's, but less kind and a lot ruthless.

The guards didn't seem to notice as they let her in their courtyard to await their king and princess. Arya put up the hood of her cloak, she could not take chances, not yet. The guards may dismiss it, maybe even the lords, but not Jon and Sansa. There was no way to forget the familiar eyes of the father they grew up with, the eyes that you see every time you made eye contact with your brother, or your youngest sister. She will not take that risk. She came here for a reason. A reason she almost forgot about the moment she saw Jon and Sansa for the first time in a long time.

Jon still has that same solemn stern look about him, but instead of making him look like he was sulking as it did when they were younger, this time it makes him look strong and commanding. Just like their father. _So much like father._ She had half a mind to run to him and tell him who she was, tell him she missed him, and tell him that she always thought about him, but she keep herself from doing so. She contented herself in observing him as subtle as she could.

He looks older, and though that was something that she had expected, it was a different kind of maturity that caught her attention. Maybe it was the battle, maybe it was more than that, but Arya was sure Jon had seen something or been somewhere that gave him this aura of being older than his years. She would find out what happened to him. It would be challenging though. In her journey to Winterfell, she had stopped several times in taverns and inns and was able to gather information regarding what happened to Winterfell.

People like to talk about something while getting drunk, and do they talk a lot. Arya learned a lot about what happened during the battle led by her brother to reclaim Winterfell, things that happened before that. About Rickon, which felt like a stab in her heart. How brave Jon was, how he was able to gain the respect of the Wildlings enough to fight for him, how he was definitely the King in the North. But nothing much about his time in the watch, or what happened before that. _She has to know more._

She turned her focus on her sister who was walking slowly beside Jon, and speaking very silently with him. Sansa has always been pretty when they were younger, but Arya was still shocked at just how beautiful she is now. She looks so much like their mother. _More beautiful than mother_. Again, she wanted so much to run and give Sansa a hug. She was her sister, she was learning to fight, she should've went to Sansa and saved her. She heard all about what she went through in King's Landing through the hound. _It's my fault, I left her to those Lannisters!_ She also heard some soldiers in the pub talking about her sister being Alayne Stone. She was confused about that, but she'll find out more once at Winterfell.

She snapped out of it and returned her focus on her sister which was now just a few feet away from her. Arya do not She still carries herself like a perfect lady, but there was something different in her now. Something that wasn't there when they were younger. She couldn't pin point what it was until Sansa spoke to her.

Instead of a modest, unsure girl hiding behind her courtesies, she can see a young woman with just enough show of confidence and strength to be taken seriously, but not to be thought of as a threat _. Sansa has become very smart and very dangerous._ Arya never would have noticed Sansa playing her and trying to manipulate the situation had she not trained with the faceless men and could detect lies and insincerity easily.

She smiled, who would've thought? My dear sister has learned a lot, she got fire in her eyes and defiance in her stance. _Something good came out from everything she went through, at least._ Arya cursed herself inwardly for thinking that way. _No! I would gladly take that naïve, hopeful, Sansa who believed in songs and knights and princes if that means she didn't have to endure any of the things that the gods let her suffer alone!_ And she would, to be honest, she would willingly have that Sansa over this Sansa if it meant her sister didn't have to experience all the pain she did.

Yes, Arya knew about it. Because as opposed to people not talking about what Jon went through, and she isn't sure if she was thankful or hated them for it, the people on taverns and inns were not shy to talk about what Sansa had been through. How she was married off to that bastard Bolton, which they assumed that she was forced or tricked to it because there was no way someone who knew him would willingly marry him. How some whores said that according to the soldiers they bedded, the princess Sansa was imprisoned in her chambers and was raped and beaten by that monster every night. They talked about how he liked to torture people by flaying them, some even whispered about how they think he used to flay Sansa as well.

Arya remembered being sick to her stomach upon hearing these, abruptly standing up and leaving a few coins at the table. She would run until she can't anymore and then she would kneel on the snow and sob. _Not Sansa. Sweet, gentle, all-smiles Sansa, who sews perfectly and acts like a lady in any given situation. Except during father's execution when she screamed and cried for them to stop it. That was definitely not an action befitting a lady._ She would then curse the gods because why? There were other ladies out there, why Sansa? She's been through a lot in King's Landing, now she had to suffer this in the North? In Winterfell even? Are the gods truly mocking us?

Arya was snapped out of her contemplation when she was shoved non-too-gently in one of the prisons. She glared at the Knight of the Vale who just smirked at her before closing the cell door and locking it. It was roomy, the walls are concrete, and the door is like a normal door, except it was metal and has a small rectangular hole which serves as a window. She assumed that it was useful so the guards won't have to open the door when she wanted to talk to them or vice versa _. Well…_ She pulled down the metal lid over the window _, …I am not in the mood to talk at the moment._

She let herself adjust to her surroundings. It does not look like a prison cell at all. It is more like a small room, with the benefit of privacy and all. It was dark but not very much so, and she could still make out a desk and a chair at one corner of the room, a cot in another corner, and a couple of pails in the corner farthest from the bed. Not that it mattered how dark it is, she was well-acquainted with it after all. Arya sighed, decided to lie down and thought her plan through.

She originally planned to return to Winterfell and bring the head of Walder Frey to the Boltons as a warning before she kills them one by one. After all, they were another traitor to the Red Wedding. However, her plan changed when she heard about all the talks of the people. Winterfell is back to her brother and sister. The Direwolf flags are waving proudly again around the North. She almost decided to just return to King's Landing for the mountain and Cersei so she could finish of her list, but she wanted to know how they are faring. That, and she longed for home, for her family.

The new plan is to go see them as someone else and not Arya. They still have enemies, and she learned during her time as a cup bearer for Tywin Lannister that traitors are made and not born. So she would go to Winterfell, observe, and find out who from their allies might be potential traitors when the time comes that an opportunity to gain more will be presented to them. With Cersei Lannister as queen, she does not doubt that Jon and Sansa will have to be more careful. She would need to see how Jon rules and how Sansa handles the castle. She needed to make sure they will not be swayed by anyone to turn against each other.

The idea of gifting her siblings Frey's head came later on. She was a day away from Winterfell when she decided that she does not want to be a servant, nor a soldier. She already know how her brother and her sister acts around them. She needs to be someone unpredictable. Someone they would not care to offend or be angry with. She needed to be someone they would consider as neutral or unpredictable so they would be confused how to react and would just give in to honesty.

She did not anticipate however, the extent of the changes she would see in her siblings. How Jon was now more forthcoming with his commands but still reserved with his thoughts, and how Sansa has grown smarter in her actions and conversations. Those changes would make it more difficult to see through their masks and break their walls of courtly manners. But Arya likes challenges, if anything, she just needs time to think how she would go about it. Maybe after a nap ideas on how she would handle her siblings would be of abundance.

She was drifting to sleep when several knocks on her metal door was made. Arya groaned, she does not want to enter into a conversation yet. She was sure the guards talking to her would report everything to Jon or Sansa. Definitely Sansa, if she was as smart as Arya thinks she is, the she would definitely be wanting reports. She needed to make this as short as possible since she still haven't figured out how she would handle her siblings. All she knows is that she has to handle them very carefully and diverse from each other. She sat up on the bed and try to focus.

Three more knocks and she finally decided to answer but she did not open the small window, "Yes?"

"I'd like to talk to you my lady. If that is alright?" _Shit. Sansa of all people!_ Arya groaned silently, she knows she have to be careful. Her sister is not someone she should underestimate. She needed to decide on a facade she would use for Sansa.

"You call me my lady, your grace, but you put me in a prison," she answered calmly. It's not enough though, she needed to put Sansa on edge. Maybe later.

She heard Sansa sighed, "I'm so sorry, my lady. It was not my wish that you be put here. I'm sure my brother was just shocked as well. I would talk to him about this and try to reason with him, worry not."

 _Gods, she's good at this._ She sounds really sincere and innocent, she even wants to downplay her influence on Jon. It is obvious though with the way Jon paid attention when Sansa spoke to him earlier in the courtyard while walking towards her. She was able to read her lips. _Brother, let me do the talking._ Jon has absolute trust in her judgement. Arya would bet needle that they were ruling together, but making it seem that it was only Jon who does. _How clever._ Definitely Sansa's idea.

"Thank you, your grace." She answered shortly. She heard her sister fidget before speaking to her again.

"My lady, are you of the North?"

"Does it matter, your grace?"

"Well…no, not really. It's just that…umm…" Sansa paused and exhaled deeply, "It's just, if you are not of the North, then you do not really needed to address me as your grace." Arya listened carefully, and she knows that Sansa wasn't exactly feeling awkward or timid at all. Her sister has become a good actress. Sansa is fishing for information, it seems.

"Nonsense, your grace. I am in your lands and therefore should afford you the respect that was expected from your people." Arya is sticking to her calm detached tone. Not amicable, but not impolite either.

"It truly is fine, my lady. Several of the people we have with us here at Winterfell are free folks, and they do not kneel to me and my brother. They just call us by our names."

"Really?" That, Arya genuinely didn't know. She knew of the free folk in Winterfell, but she thought they kneel to her siblings as well. Jon and Sansa are proving to be really good rulers or really bad ones.

"Yes, my lady. So we would not take it against you if you do not address us as your king and princess. If you are somewhere from the East or from the South, we would totally understand."

Arya smiled, her sister is definitely good. Wanting to know where she is from as subtle as possible. Her courtesy had been perfect, maybe it is time to ruffle Sansa's armor a little.

"Worry not, your grace, I am not under anyone's rule but my own, and I would gladly kneel to you and your brother."

"Well, then, thank you, my lady." Sansa, always so polite. Arya figured she would like to see her sister a bit out of sorts.

"Of course, my princess. If I could kill for you, then I certainly could kneel to you." Arya answered her with a bit of malice on her tone. There was silence. Then Arya heard her sister sigh again.

"About that. You said you are not under anyone's rule, so why did you do it? Why kill Walder Frey for, I assume, the Red Wedding?" Now that is a sincere question. Arya knows this one is definitely something that Sansa wanted to know. Of course, Arya would not reveal the truth. She also would not give Sansa an answer, if only to piss her off.

Arya yawned and was back to her earlier tone, "I'm sorry, your grace, it seems that I need to rest for a while."

Sansa abruptly responded with a bit of annoyance, "My lady, you say that you will kneel to me, that is equal to you accepting me as your princess, is it not? As your princess, I demand that you answer my question truthfully."

"And you said that you would understand my qualms in being under your rule, and yet you are forcing me to give information that I hold dear, through a command, your grace."

She could totally imagined how Sansa must have looked on the other side of the door. She probably look affronted. Arya smiled when she heard Sansa shift after a few seconds.

"I'm sorry, my lady. I was just truly curious. Forgive me for forgetting my place." Arya smirked, Sansa was not sorry at all.

"There is nothing to forgive, your grace."

"I can see that you do not trust easy, my lady, but may I at least know your name?"

Arya knew that this would make Sansa hate her or love her as a prisoner, but she would deal with it because she needed to keep Sansa's interest. Her sister might give up her curiosity after their talk today, and Arya wasn't having it.

"My name is Lady, your grace," she chuckled for effect, "Although my mother would swear I act more like a savage wolf than a proper lady."

"What?" _Sansa's feathers were ruffled, alright._ However, Arya knew she needs to push her sister a bit more. An annoyed Sansa is far more interesting than the polite Sansa.

"I was kidding, your grace. I heard the story about your wolf, Lady. I mean no offense, however."

"You mean no offense? Well, my lady, I am quite offended." She could tell Sansa is very close to snapping. She can't have that either, she only needs her on the edge.

"Forgive me, your grace. I assumed incorrectly." Her asking for forgiveness was sincere, because she hated to hear that tinged of pain lacing her sister's last response.

"Forget it." Arya heard Sansa turn around and make a couple of steps away from her cell.

"Your grace," she called. She heard the steps stop. "What is it, my lady?"

Arya opened the lid so she could see Sansa, it was dark enough that her sister would not notice the color of her eyes. She saw that Sansa turned around to face her, so she was smirking when she answered, "Alayne, your grace. Call me Alayne."

She almost burst out laughing when she saw Sansa's reaction, she certainly let annoyance show in her response though. "You do not want to tell me your name, fine."

"Too easy to rile you up, your grace."

"Stop. Just, stop," Sansa said indignantly as she walk away from Arya's cell.

Arya laughed, "Anything for you, my dear princess!" She called out. She heard Sansa's huff even as she turned on the corridor, and she laugh louder.

Oh how she loved annoying Sansa. They were older now, but still, it gives her quite satisfaction in successfully riling her sister. _She's so responsive to my baits._ Arya was smiling as she lie down on the cot. She never felt so happy in a long time. _I definitely missed making Sansa forget about her ladylike manners!_

For a few more moments, Arya felt at home before she drifted off to sleep and dreams of hunts and wolves.

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N/A: Preview to Chapter 3:

"What's going on here?" Sansa bristled as she saw the commotion on the hall. There was that girl being dragged and forced to kneel in front of an enraged Jon. Their bannermen and a number of soldiers and wildlings started gathering in the halls.

"Where did you get this?!" Jon bellowed at the girl as though he had not heard Sansa's question. She decided to walk toward her brother to calm him down. It is not wise to show this many people what makes him lose his temper like this. _What angers you, affect you._

"Brother, what is going on?" She asked as she grab his left arm. Jon startled a bit, as he directed his right hand to the girl. It was then that Sansa noticed that he was holding a very thin sword.

"She have this in her possession!" Jon answered her, still enraged, as if that explains anything.

"And?"

Jon whipped his head to look at her, and she saw the pained expression hidden under the anger in his eyes. "This," he said waving the sword somehow, "belongs to Arya."

Sansa was shocked, she looked at the sword properly. She wouldn't recognized it specifically, but she hasn't seen any sword like that except for Arya's. The topic of her sister always pains her, but still, damage control.

"Jon, maybe it just looks like Arya's sword?"

"No. I'm the one who gifted her the sword, before we left Winterfell. This is Arya's." Jon answered solemnly, as if in a trance. Now, Sansa is in equal parts panicked and angry. She walked closer to the kneeling girl whose expression is just passive, just observing them. That angered her more.

"How did you come by my sister's sword, my lady?" Sansa asked in a low voice. She felt overwhelming fear when the realization that this girl might have actually killed her sister.

The girl smiled, "A beautiful sword, ain't it, your grace? I like beautiful things."

Sansa tried to appear calm even with her blood boiling. "Do be careful for with your next words, my lady. I've killed before, I'm not oppose to doing it again. The time for japing is over," she stated coldly. She thought she even felt Jon shiver behind her.


End file.
